3013: OUTLAW (3013: The Series Book 14)

by Kali Argent

  His heart still pounded too fast and too hard, residuals of Isla’s own fear, but he took calming breaths, trying to remain steady for her.

  “It was just a dream,” he repeated, keeping his tone calm and even. “Just a bad dream, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”

  “I was alone. Everyone was gone.”

  “That’s not going to happen. Not ever.” Gathering her into his arms, he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, along the arc of her jaw, and finally, her lips. “You never have to be alone again.”

  They sat in silence for a long time after that, watching the sun make its descent toward the horizon. Eventually, her breathing slowed and the muscles in her back relaxed, but she still didn’t speak for several more minutes.

  “Where’s Cord?”

  “Sadayka is with him. She won’t let him out of her sight.”

  Isla bobbed her head slowly. “I feel like an idiot. Did I scream out loud?”

  “You kind of did.”

  Dropping her head, she moaned miserably. “Great. That’s just great.”

  “It wasn’t that loud. I’m sure there were people in the Capital who didn’t hear you.”

  “Asshole,” she muttered, slapping playfully at his chest. “I need a shower.” Wiggling out of his arms, she stood and held her hand out in invitation. “Care to join me?”

  “I, uh…” Of course he wanted to join her, and he couldn’t think of a good reason not to, yet something held him back. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “I do know.” Stepping between his knees, she cradled his face in both hands, bending slightly to press their lips together. “I love you, and I want to be with you.”

  A strangle groan bubbled up from his chest, as he wound his arms around the female, pulling her back into his lap to deepen the kiss. Much had happened in the past weeks, some good, some bad, but he’d never been happier. Isla loved him. She loved his brothers. She thought Slade—with his quick temper and gruff demeanor—was sweet. She was everything they’d been searching for, and even some things they hadn’t known to want.

  “I am so fucking in love with you,” he murmured, crushing her tightly against him. “I’m not ever letting you go, sweetheart.”

  “Good, because I wouldn’t let you, even if you tried.”

  Their mouths met in another heated kiss, their tongues sweeping together, one tangling around the other. They broke apart just long enough to divest their clothing, ripping and tearing at the fabric in their eagerness.

  Stars alive, she was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen, and his mouth salivated at the sight of her bared before him. He didn’t get to look long before she crawled back into his lap, straddling his hips and slanting their mouths together once more. Her sweet whimper nearly undid him, and he growled deep in his chest when she arched her back, pressing her pert breasts against him. Hard and aching, desperate to taste, touch, and explore her supple body, he flipped his mate onto her back, pressing her into the cushions of the sofa. Hovering over her, he trailed his lips down the slope of her neck and across her collarbones, following the swell of her breast and tracing his tongue around her erect nipple.

  Head back, eyes closed, Isla tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, moaning as she pressed closer to his mouth. Closing his lips around her nipple, he worried the hard bud between his teeth, laving it with his tongue until she squirmed and panted beneath him. He caressed her soft, warm skin, touching her everywhere he could reach, mapping every inch of her, learning each curve and swell of her body.

  Chest heaving, heart pounding, Isla writhed against the cushions, pulling at his shoulder as she tried to wind her legs around his waist. “Knox, please. Stars, I’m on fire.”

  He could go on teasing her forever, but in truth, he simply needed her too much to deny either of them. Dancing his fingers along the inside of her thigh, he brushed his knuckles against her cleft, growling from the heat that emanated from her core.

  “Fuck,” he breathed, his body vibrating with desire as he fought to maintain his self-control. “I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

  “Then don’t.” Grabbing his face, she pulled him back to her lips, stretching toward him to deliver another mind-melting kiss. “Don’t hold back. Make love to me like you mean it, or don’t do it at all.”

  Her words undid him, and a growl rumbled in his chest as he parted her, pushing two fingers into her slick entrance. Snug, wet heat surrounded his digits, the muscles clenching, drawing him deeper.

  “Don’t stop.” She rocked against his hand, gasping when he curled his fingers on the next inward stroke. “Knox! Please!”

  Clearly tired of his slow pace, Isla shoved up from the couch, pushed his hand away, and climbed back into his lap, straddling his thighs as she gripped his aching erection in her warm hand. Holding him at attention, she positioned herself over the crown and sank onto his length.

  Silky heat surrounded him, her inner walls molding around him like a glove. His mate consumed him, and her unhindered passion ignited his own baser instincts, sparking a fire within him that burned out of control. He placed one hand on her hip, holding her lightly to guide her, and cupped one, bouncing breast in his other. Great galaxies, he couldn’t look away from her.

  Eyes closed, cheeks flushed, her hair falling around her shoulders in tangled waves—she was a goddess, beautiful and untamed, and she was his.

  When her moans increased in volume and her breaths came in quick, hard pants, he trailed his hand down her damp torso, sliding it between their bodies to part her slick folds. Unerringly, he found her swollen clit, and when he stroked the bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb, Isla tossed her head back and screamed.

  Her rhythm faltered for just a moment, but she found it again quickly, rocking and gliding, rising and falling, as he drew tight, hard circles over the slick nub. Hands splayed across his chest, she called out his name, her body tensing and her tight pussy convulsing around his length.

  Winding his arm around her hips, he pulled her closer, his gaze fixed on the delicate skin on her neck. She was his, and before they left that room, he’d make sure she knew it.

  Watching him through heavy-lidden eyes, Isla seemed to hear his unspoken question, because she tilted her head to the side and brushed her hair over her shoulder in clear invitation. Driven by instinct and little else, Knox thrust upward, driving into her as he embedded his canines into the crook of her neck.

  Isla couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. A shiver rippled down her back as warmth and need flooded her, pushing her closer to the edge. Knox’s cock jerked within her depths, his thick length stretching her wide, and with every hard thrust, she teetered precariously close to orgasm.

  When he lifted his head and sighed her name, she let go, letting herself fall into the waiting abyss. The glide of her hips became jerky and ungraceful. Her muscles flexed and her inner walls tensed, creating a rush of moisture between her thighs. Her climax only seemed to spur Knox on, because a few awkward thrusts later, he tumbled after her, roaring her name as he released himself into her clenching depths.

  Panting, coated in perspiration, Isla fell against his chest, content to just cuddle in silence while she recovered. Through the bliss, a thought occurred to her, and she pressed her face against the side of Knox’s neck and began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “My clothes are ruined.”

  “So?”

  “It was the only thing I had to wear.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Shit, Isla, this is where you live?”

  Bastian stood outside the sprawling mansion with its manicured grounds and bronzed light fixtures. The place stretched three stories toward the morning sky, obscuring the rays of sun that managed to break through the cloud cover. He’d thought the castle on Xenthian had been enormous, but Isla’s family home could probably give it some stiff competition.

  “It’s a bit showy,” she mumbled, pink spreading across her cheeks.
“My mom inherited it from my grandparents when they passed.”

  “And now, it’s yours,” Knox reminded her.

  “I guess.” Clearly uncomfortable, she adjusted her borrowed T-shirt, dragging it back up where it had fallen off her shoulder, and shrugged.

  Bastian couldn’t have been happier that Knox had claimed their girl, but he wished his brother had been more conscious about his methods. With her last set of clothes in tatters, they’d had to pool their resources to find something for her to wear. Slade had managed to find a pair of sleep pants with a draw string, and Bastian had literally given his mate the shirt off his back.

  Normally, Haven had an abundance of extra clothes and other necessities since its occupants usually arrived on Sadayka’s doorstep with nothing. In recent weeks, however, there had been an influx of females seeking sanctuary, and while most had stayed only a few days and been on their way, they’d also left with several sets of clothes. Sadayka had apologized for her lack of supplies, but Isla had just waved her off with a smile.

  Personally, Bastian liked seeing her in his clothes, and his chest swelled with satisfaction that it was just one more way to mark her as his. He wasn’t a complete brute, though, and he understood she’d need something more sensible to wear—part of the reason they’d left for her home on the other side of town right after breakfast.

  “Okay, everyone knows the plan?” Slade asked, getting them back on track.

  “We grab the data units out of the office, get Isla some clothes, and haul ass,” Knox recited.

  “The commanders shouldn’t be home for hours,” Isla mused, “but I could monitor them just in case. It shouldn’t be hard to find something of theirs for me to hold on to while you’re getting the data units.”

  “No!” Bastian and his brothers snapped in unison.

  After feeling the pain it had caused her, watching her bleed before passing out for days, they’d all agreed to only ask her to use her ability when absolutely necessary. This wasn’t one of those times.

  “You’re sure the security feed backup is on the data units?” Knox asked.

  “No. I’m sure they’ve probably wiped it by now. There might be something else we can use, though.”

  Knox just grinned. “We’ll see how well they scrubbed their files.”

  The bio-lock beside the front door chirped as it scanned Isla’s palm, then a robotic voice welcomed her home. A metallic click echoed off the ceiling of the porch when the locks disengaged, granting them access into the house.

  Bastian shook his head. “I guess they didn’t expect you to come back.”

  “Probably not, but there will be a log of the bio-scan. That means this is our only shot, because they’re going to know I’m back in Jade City.”

  Slade shoved the double doors open and stepped inside first, his posture tense and battle ready. When nothing happened, he straightened and motioned the rest of them inside before closing the doors firmly behind them.

  “Bas, take Isla upstairs to get her things,” he instructed. “Knox, let’s take a look at those data units.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he shook his head and scowled. “I don’t understand why the Alliance hasn’t asked for the security footage.”

  “As I said, I’m sure the commanders deleted it.” Isla marched across the spacious foyer to the spiraling staircase as she spoke. “If the Alliance had asked for it right away, they could have claimed a technical glitch, or say I disabled the monitors. If they waited, it wouldn’t matter anyway. All the footage is recorded over after thirty days.”

  Slade considered her for a moment, then turned to Knox. “Is there any way for us to get the report? It would be helpful if we know what evidence the Alliance claims to have.”

  Before Knox could answer, Isla stopped on the third step of the staircase, her hand resting on the wooden railing, and leaned forward. “Have Sadayka contact her cousins on X21. They’re mated to the commander there.”

  Bastian chuckled. “You’ve made some interesting friends, baby.”

  “That wasn’t the plan, believe me, but I don’t intend to look a gift horse in the mouth, either.”

  “What’s a horse?” Knox asked.

  “Is the horse the gift, or does it give gifts?” Slade inquired next.

  Bastian tilted his head to the side, trying to puzzle out the strange saying, but he came up with nothing. “Why would you look into this thing’s mouth? Is that where the gifts are?”

  After blinking at them a couple of times, Isla fell into a fit of giggles that made her entire body shake. “I actually have no idea how to answer most of those questions. It just means that when something fortunate happens, don’t question it.”

  Slade grunted. “That makes no sense.”

  Bastian agreed, but they were wasting time arguing about it. “If things are so bad here, why hasn’t anyone reported it to the regents?” he asked as he followed her up the stairs. “Wouldn’t they step in to help?”

  “From what I can tell, there isn’t any proof. Most of the crime in the city is drugs, theft, and the like, things that can easily be attributed to rebels. I mean, they’re not the best commanders the Alliance has to offer, but they’ve never been linked to any wrongdoing.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have to ask, if that’s the case, why are you so sure they’re the ones who killed your mother?”

  “I’m not.” When they reached the second floor, Isla walked straight across the wide hallway and pushed open the double doors, opening them to a room that could probably hold the Storm Rider with space to spare. “They were quick to point the finger at me, though, and I had never seen that vial of pepper flakes they said had my fingerprints on it. You don’t plant evidence if you’re innocent.”

  Bastian knew there was no love between Isla and her stepfathers, but he needed to know what they were up against. “Could someone else have planted the pepper flakes without them knowing?”

  “Maybe, but then why would they lie and say they caught me trying to destroy it?”

  Well, she had him there. He couldn’t think of a plausible reason that the commanders would lie about something like that, especially after she’d already fled to the sanctuary. Unfortunately, it was her word against theirs, with zero proof to substantiate either story. Given the choice between two prominent and respected commanders and a young female with no alibi, Bastian could guess who the Alliance was more likely to believe.

  “If they killed her, or paid someone to, I want them to face justice,” Isla continued, “but mostly, I just want to find out what really happened to my mother and clear my name.” She crossed the beige colored carpet, passed a four-poster bed with a sheer canopy, and opened another door that led into a closet almost as big as her room. “I don’t know if they did it. Maybe someone else killed her, and the commanders saw an opportunity to get rid of me as well. Either way, I don’t trust them.”

  “Sadayka doesn’t, either.” She hadn’t said why, but she’d been fairly vocal about her dislike of the city’s commanders. “Slade’s right. We need to get our hands on that report and figure out what we’re up against.”

  Isla didn’t say much while she packed a small duffle bag with clothes and a few other personal belongings. When she’d stripped out of her borrowed clothes to change, Bastian had been forced to turn his back and grit his teeth to stop himself from taking her right there on the floor.

  A few minutes later, she stepped out of the closet dressed in a long-sleeved, red tunic with black leggings and matching knee-high boots that laced up the sides. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail at her nape, and had her bag slung over one shoulder.

  “All ready.”

  “Here, let me carry that.”

  “I appreciate it, but it’s not very heavy.” She adjusted the strap, hitching the duffle higher up her back. “Really,” she insisted when he frowned at her. “I’ve got this.”

  “Stop being so stubborn and give me the damn bag.”

  She just laughed, grabbed t
he collar of his long-sleeved black shirt, and jerked him down into a hard kiss. “I’m not giving you this bag. I love you, but I don’t need you to do every little thing for me.” Then she pushed him toward the stairs and swatted playfully at his backside. “Go help your brothers.”

  “Damn, female, you’re kind of hot when you’re bossy.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “You like that, huh?”

  They’d often talked about how much Cord had grown, but he wasn’t the only who had opened up and come out of his shell since they’d met. Beneath her polished and proper veneer, Isla had the heart of a warrior, and she wasn’t afraid to stand up for what she believed in, what she thought was right. She also had no problem putting him or his brothers in their place, something which Bastian readily admitted they needed from time to time.

  “Bas!” Slade bellowed from the first floor. “Get your ass down here. I think we’ve found something.”

  “You heard him, baby. Stop wasting time.” He scoffed as he tugged gently at her ponytail. “Trying to seduce me right now? You should be ashamed.”

  “Bas, my love?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  They both laughed as they descended the stairs, following the sound of muffled curses to a swanky office in the back corner of the sprawling house. Compared to the rest of the house, the office looked cold and unwelcoming with its black, tiled floor, dark furnishings, and chrome accents. There were no books anywhere to be seen, but a vid screen covered the entire wall across from the glass desk.

  Knox had already disassembled the three data units and stacked them near the door, and he and Slade stood around a rather boring painting of a vast field blooming with orange and yellow flowers.

  “Tell me this isn’t what you wanted me to look at it.” Bastian felt like his eyes were going to hemorrhage at any moment. “Why are you staring at that painting?”

  Unclipping a small flashlight from his belt loop, Knox shined the purple light over the bottom, right corner of the painting. “See the thumb print? I think there’s something behind this painting.”